


drank with the devil and forgot my name

by deluxemycroft



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, Clothes Wetting, Consent Issues, Crying During Sex, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Deaf Clint Barton, Desperation, Desperation Play, Dirty Talk, Elevator Sex, Felching, Helplessness Kink, Humiliation kink, M/M, Piss Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trapped In Elevator, Unrealistic Sex, Urination, Violent Sex, Watersports, Wetting, a lot of talk about piss, aggressive sex, just so much urine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:21:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deluxemycroft/pseuds/deluxemycroft
Summary: Power goes out in Stark Tower, trapping Clint and Loki in an elevator.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Loki
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	drank with the devil and forgot my name

**Author's Note:**

> i put a consent issue tag since consent is never explicitly given, but they're both into it. sometimes they pretend like they're not, so if that's not your thing, head on out. there's also some violent sexual imagery talked about, and some of it gets a little nasty! fair warnings all around.
> 
> title is from 'pierre' by ryn weaver
> 
> enjoy!

Loki looks bored and unbothered by the entire situation, which Clint Barton thinks might be a first for him. Clint has seen him in pretty much every imaginable situation, and a great deal more of unimaginable ones, and Loki almost always looks some degree of annoyed. Somehow being stuck in one of the elevators in Avengers Tower nearly a thousand feet from the ground doesn’t necessitate a reaction. Probably because Loki thinks he could survive the fall, and he’s probably right.

“You can’t magic us out or something?” Clint asks for what must be the fourth or fifth time. Loki is reading something on his phone—of course, there’s a dead spot of service in between a few floors and that’s right where the elevator died—and he deigns to look up from it to cast Clint a faintly amused look.

“No,” Loki tells him, “Strange put a ward upon the building that I cannot perform seidr within it.”

Clint is pretty sure Loki figured out how to get around that spell about a minute after it was cast, but Loki doesn’t like showing his hand until it’s either funny or conducive to whatever weird plot he’s hatched, so all he can do is sigh in annoyance and sink down to the floor and let out a long groan when Loki turns his attention back to his phone. “What about pulling the doors open?”

There’s finger-shaped indents on the doors from where Loki already tried. “Stark designed everything in the Tower to withstand both Thor and the Beast, did he not?” Loki replied idly, gaze flickering over Clint and then back to his phone. “What chance have I against them?”

Clint groans again. The power went out and the reserve generators kicked on, so there’s backup lights lighting up the elevator in kind of a dim, spooky way, but the elevators were down until power was fully back on line. Of course it had to happen while he and big greasy were stuck together.

After Loki faked his death on Svartalfheim, he’d messed around on Asgard for a while and then had grown bored and come back to Earth. Thor had found out and he and Loki had had a fight that had both the United States army and the United Nations military called on them. Apparently fighting was the Odinson way and the two of them had been thick as thieves ever since. Thor had just decided for the Avengers that Loki was going to help them and after a fair bit of magical agreements and binding oaths, Loki was an independent consultant for the Avengers. It was still pretty weird.

Clint had hated him at first, and still a little part of him did. He couldn’t forget the brainwashing, but he’d also known that Loki hadn’t been in complete control of himself either. He and Loki had mostly avoided each other over the past year or so, but Cap had started pairing them up on missions recently and they’d had to get over their animosity towards each other. Thor had pulled Clint aside once and told him that Loki thought Clint didn’t like him, which, well, _yeah_ , but Loki was working on it and maybe Clint could try too. Older brothers. Sheesh.

So he’d tried. And found out that Loki was still pretty much the worst, but he could sometimes be a little funny. And he was really smart. And he had really nice hands, with really elegant long fingers and his eyes were always sharp and sometimes he smiled in a way that seemed almost genuine. He wasn’t nice, but he could be somewhere in the vicinity of it.

Clint looks up at the escape hatch on the ceiling of the elevator. He’s not tall enough to reach and Loki won’t lift him up there because Loki thinks he’ll somehow immediately fall to his death if he leaves the elevator. Loki has no idea how elevators work, which is kind of funny. Not that Clint is an elevator expert himself, but at least he knows what an elevator is. Loki still sometimes calls it a lifting box, which is just silly, since it also goes down.

Not right now, though. This elevator doesn’t do fucking anything.

“Bang on the door again,” Clint says. Loki’s mouth thins but he pockets his phone and takes the few steps over to the closed doors. Clint covers his ears and watches as Loki lifts a fist to pound on the door a few times, the reverberations shaking the entire box a little. Nothing changes.

Clint drops his hands from his ears. Loki turns back to him, eyebrows raised. “I understand waiting for rescue goes against your personal ethos, but it seems we are out of options,” Loki drawls.

The worst part of it all is that Clint has had to piss for the last hour of the meeting, and he’d taken the elevator instead of the stairs back to his floor because it was a little bit faster, and now this had happened. He knows he’s squirming and flushed and uncomfortable because he can feel the pressure of his bladder pushing against his stomach and his balls feel heavy and he can feel his cock aching. There’s tightness in his gut and he’s alternating hot and cold flashes and he is bordering on desperate.

Clint nods, bringing up a hand to cradle his stomach, trying to press underneath his bladder to raise it and ease some of the pressure, but it doesn’t work. He almost wants to reach down to pinch the end of his cock shut, but he can’t do that with Loki watching. He doesn’t even like masturbating with Loki in the same _building_ ; the god always looks at him like he knows what dirty thing Clint was thinking about and is going to use it against him. He shifts again, briefly squeezing his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. 

When he opens his eyes again, Loki is crouched in front of him. “Gonna have to put a bell on you,” Clint says to hide the way he wants to jump away. Green eyes flicker over him and then narrow. He can’t stop thinking about needing to piss and that makes it worse. Sweat starts beading on his brow and Loki’s eyes rove over his face. Clint unconsciously licks his lips and Loki’s eyes follow the motion. “What?” Clint asks, annoyed.

“We may be in here for a long while yet,” Loki tells him. He sits on the floor and crosses his legs underneath himself, covering his knees with his palms. Clint’s eyes fall to his long fingers and then he forces himself to jerk them back up Loki’s sharp face.

Then Loki’s thin mouth curls in a slow smile and he reaches over to pick up his suit jacket from where he dropped it earlier. He reaches into one of the pockets and pulls out a half-full plastic water bottle. Loki waits until Clint’s attention is fully on him before he slowly untwists the cap and raises the bottle to his mouth and takes a few slow swallows, long throat working and stretching. Then he lowers the bottle and holds it out to Clint.

“You must be parched,” Loki says, a slight note of concern in his voice, which is definitely fake. Clint _is_ thirsty, but he shakes his head. He presses harder beneath his bladder and tries to stretch his back out without being obvious what he’s doing. “It’s been quite a long time and you didn’t drink anything for the second half of the meeting. Your human bodies are so weak; surely you must be thirsty.”

“Why were you keeping track of what I drink?” Clint bites back, suddenly shooting up to his feet. The motion makes it better for a few seconds and then gravity makes itself known and there’s a sudden hot flash as the liquid in his bladder shifts and presses against his stomach and he can’t stop the whimper that escapes his lips. He tries to stretch the ache away and he wants to go into the fetal position, but Loki would never let him live it down. Clint paces a few strides but Loki is sitting directly in the middle of the elevator and he’s in the way and Clint knows he won’t move, so he finally gives up, hands fisted in front of his groin, panting with the strain of keeping it all in.

Loki’s face is right at groin height and he tips his head back to look up the length of Clint’s body, up to Clint’s flushed face. “Because I was bored,” Loki tells him. “And you wouldn’t stop _moving_. Always shifting in your seat and adjusting and pretending like you were listening.” He holds up the water bottle again. “You must be terribly thirsty.”

“Fuck off,” Clint mutters, leaning his head back and squeezing his eyes shut. Cap or Stark will rescue them soon, and he can run to the nearest bathroom and forget about this. There’s the sound of Loki moving but Clint is trying to meditate to get away from the strain of his aching, pulsing bladder, so he doesn’t open his eyes.

But then, of course, a long, cool hand finds his stomach, sliding beneath his shirt, and Clint takes in a sharp breath as his eyes flash open, finding Loki’s. Loki looks down at him, for once looking concerned, and Clint brings up a hand to shove him away. Before he can, however, Loki leans forward and murmurs into his ear, “You’re going to need a release sooner or later.”

“If I piss in here, you’ll never let me live it down,” Clint replies.

“In the elevator?” Loki says, shifting around so he’s pressed up against Clint’s front. Clint can’t figure out why he hasn’t shoved him away. “When you have a pair of perfectly good trousers?”

That does it, and Clint does shove Loki away. Or he tries at least, and Loki’s other hand wraps around his wrist. “Fuck off,” Clint snaps. “And let me go.”

“To watch you fight yourself over a perfectly natural need?” Loki tsks in disappointment. “Wouldn’t it feel better to just...release?”

His cock jumps and his bladder throbs and his body thrums with anticipation of how good it would feel. He can almost imagine it, imagine the warmth, the groan of relief, the shiver. Clint grits his teeth, shooting a hand down to pinch the end of his cock shut through his pants. He feels frantic, reduced to nonverbal, and he growls at Loki, who merely blinks at him.

Loki slowly releases his hand from around Clint’s wrist, adjusting his stance so he’s leaning more fully against Clint, pressing his other hand against Clint’s bladder. Clint whimpers and for the first time, he sees a flash of heat in Loki’s eyes. Then Loki’s hand drops down and joins Clint’s hand at his cock. He can’t stop the way his hips twitch forward when Loki fingers press up against him, fingering over the way Clint has squeezed himself shut.

“What if I told you to hold it?” Loki asks, his voice pitched low and if he was anyone else, sultry. He moves his fingers over Clint’s bladder, pressing in one at a time before releasing and moving onto the next one. Clint shivers. “What if I said I wanted to watch you squirm until you couldn’t help it and begged?”

“What if I piss on you?” Clint bites out. He could do it, too. Maybe he can’t piss in his pants, but he could piss on Loki.

A slow smile spreads across Loki’s face, a predator stalking his prey. The hand pressing against his bladder disappears and quickly undoes the button and zipper on his pants, Clint letting out a groan of relief as his stomach feels like it sags forward, bladder still pulling down. He can almost feel a bit of piss find its way down his cock, but he squeezes hard enough that it doesn’t find its way out. The hand that had been covering his suddenly pulls back and then slips down into Clint’s boxers. He gasps as cool fingers graze over his pubic hair and then down to brush over the base of his dick.

He feels tender and oversensitive and he grits his teeth. Loki is fully leaning up against him now, shielding what they’re doing from the closed elevator doors, and Clint, through the haze of urgency and pain, realizes that he feels safe. The realization surprises him enough that he briefly loses concentration and he lets out a small spurt of piss, quickly stopping the rest from coming out by wrenching the tip of his dick shut. Loki makes a softly surprised sound and then he leans his head down, nose nudging against Clint’s cheek, warm breaths fanning out over his jaw and mouth.

Loki’s hand snakes down beneath his cock and folds around his heavy balls. Clint’s hips twitch as Loki rolls them in between his fingers, hefting them in his palm as if weighing them. He’s torn between the desperation and the ache and the pressure and the feeling of Loki’s own erection beginning to press against his side. 

“Loki, I don’t want to,” Clint whines, suddenly finding his voice, and his suspicion is proved right when Loki’s hips twitch, the erection against Clint’s side growing harder and hotter. “Loki,” he whimpers. “I can’t hold it.”

“Dirty,” Loki breathes against his face, and when Clint blinks up through the haze, he sees that Loki’s eyes are fire bright. “Going to piss yourself in an elevator? Can’t even hold it, can you?” The vague clinical tone has fallen away from his voice and he sounds as breathless as Clint feels, and Clint feels a little twist in his chest at the way Loki isn’t even trying to hide it. Loki’s fingers press against his bladder again and Clint gasps.

“Please,” he begs, “don’t. I can’t hold it.”

It actually takes a lot of concentration to purposefully piss his pants. Once he gives his body permission to release and piss all over Loki’s hand and his nice suit, there seems to be a long minute of hesitation as his body refuses. The pressure is so great that it feels like his bladder is truly going to rip apart inside of him, and Loki pushes against it as Clint drops his hand away, no longer pinching his cock shut.

Loki’s fingers wrap around his cock and then his other hand slides around Clint’s back to press them closer. Clint’s hands are shaking with the strain and the restraint and he kind of wants to feel what it’s like to piss his pants, so he rests a hand over his cock and the other holds Loki close. “Please,” he whispers again, “I _can’t._ ”

Loki lets out a trembling breath and pushes his hips forward, hard cock digging into Clint’s side. That distracts him enough that he finally releases, letting out a long groan, head falling back against the elevator wall. Loki follows him, head bent down to press against Clint’s as the seemingly endless stream of piss soaks Loki’s hand and Clint’s pants and Clint’s hand and Loki’s fancy suit pants. 

The relief is almost heady and Clint’s head swims with it. The pressure on his stomach releases almost immediately and is replaced by a strange, cool hollowness. The piss is warm and Loki uses it as lubricant to slide his hand up and down Clint’s cock, gathering a bit of it in his palm before slicking Clint up with it. It’s not very effective lubricant and the smell of it hits his nostrils, but holy fucking shit it feels good. He’s already getting hard and Loki is breathing like he just ran a marathon as Clint pisses all over him.

“I couldn’t hold it,” he whines, putting an affect into his voice that makes him sound teary, and as expected, Loki’s hips jump again, breath catching in his chest. “What if they find us like this, what if they _smell it?_ ”

“They will,” Loki growls, baring his teeth against Clint’s cheek. “They’ll know what you did, how dirty you are, covered in your own piss. They’ll know that you begged me just by looking at you.”

He finally stops pissing and sags back in relief, letting out a groan. The haze of desperation wanes a bit and he realizes he’s stuck in an elevator with Loki, covered in his own piss, half-hard because of Loki’s hand in his pants. Then Loki does a swirling motion around the head of his cock with his hand and all thought leaves Clint’s head.

They lean against each other for a few long moments and Clint tries to lean his head away to get a read on Loki, who just might kill him for figuring out this kink of his, but Loki is refusing to meet his gaze. So Clint goes with it and lifts his hand from his own sopping wet cock and presses his piss-wet hand to Loki’s cock. Loki lets out a gasp and suddenly takes a step back. Green eyes flash over Clint’s face and then down to his open pants, wet with piss, cock jutting obscenely forward, and before Clint can say anything, Loki drops to his knees.

There’s a face at his cock before Clint can say anything. He guesses they’re going all the way with this, and that’s fine with him. His stomach still feels a little strange and he shivers, his ass feeling suddenly empty. But then all thought is pushed out of his head as Loki presses his mouth to the wet fabric over his cock and _sucks._

“Fuck!” Clint yelps, hips snapping forward. Loki sucks and slurps piss from his pants, nosing his zipper out of the way to mouth over his sodden boxers. “Loki, _please_.” Green eyes flash up at him and then hold his gaze as Loki suctions his mouth over Clint’s cock and sucks the piss out of the fabric. His cock jumps and Loki doesn’t seem to notice, moving around to suck the rest of the piss out of Clint’s boxers. He pauses a few times to take in ragged breaths and Clint watches desperately as Loki licks his lips, seeming to savor the taste, and then he moves in for more.

The suction of Loki’s mouth over his cock is driving Clint mad, and he goes to push his boxers down, but Loki slaps his hand away, choosing to do it himself. He takes Clint’s hard, throbbing cock in one hand and begins to lick it, cleaning it instead of giving Clint pleasure. Something about the purposeful way he’s going about it, not giving any regard to where Clint wants him to be makes Clint whimper. Loki holds his cock up with his hand and noses down to his balls, sucking each of them in turn, and then he noses in between Clint’s thighs and licks the piss up from there. His other hand suddenly appears at Clint’s hole, fingers brushing over it and causing him to gasp, but then it falls away and keeps him steady up against the wall.

“There,” Loki says once he’s finally done, voice hoarse and Clint’s hard cock just a few inches in front of his face, “All clean.” He looks absolutely destroyed, hair mussed somehow, eyes bright, lips red where he keeps licking them clean. His cheeks are flushed and his nostrils keep flaring when he gets a whiff of the smell of Clint’s piss. He doesn’t seem to notice the hard cock in front of him or the one in his pants, but Clint is pretty sure that’s just a ruse.

He pauses for a moment and then brings a hand forward to cup Loki’s jaw. Loki blinks up at him and then leans his head into his grasp without reservation. Clint brushes his thumb over Loki’s lips and then slides his thumb inside, Loki opening for him, and he presses his thumb down on Loki’s tongue, opening his mouth. He takes his cock in the other hand and forces Loki’s jaw open and feeds him his cock.

Loki might be the best cock sucker Clint has ever used. He seems to enjoy it, his mouth going wet and hollow and as hot as anything, tongue laving over the ridge on the bottom as he sucks Clint’s cock down, head popping into his throat without issue. Clint groans, Loki’s mouth and throat working around him, and he tries to hold Loki’s head in place and fuck into him, but Loki can’t give up that much control and he pushes Clint’s hips back, braces him against the wall, and takes what he wants from him.

He pulls back, licking up the underside of Clint’s cock, suckles on the head, noses down to gently hold Clint’s balls in his mouth, and then he pulls back and takes Clint’s cock down his throat in one fell swoop. Clint almost shouts and there’s the barest hint of teeth around his cock as Loki hums around him, throat working, and then Loki pulls off slowly, too slowly. It’s almost agonizing. He wants to pin Loki down and fuck his face until he comes all over him, mess up his clothes and scratch his face and make it obvious that he belongs to Clint. But then Loki sucks him down again, one hand coming down to stroke him while he slurps at the head, and that’s it, Clint groans as sparks fly through him and he comes down Loki’s throat.

He gasps for air as the aftershocks leave his vision, sagging backwards, and then Loki is standing and Clint barely realizes what he’s doing before he does it. But he yanks Clint forward and down, onto his knees, and Clint is barely aware that Loki is undoing his pants and shoving his cock into Clint’s mouth. He gags on it and tries to fight it and Loki slams his head back against the wall and forces him to open his throat and he fucks down it.

Clint tries to moan something but Loki isn’t giving him enough of a reprieve. He was kind of expecting Loki’s cock to be alien, but it feels as familiar as any other human dick Clint has had in his mouth, although it’s heavier. It feels like it should be weighing him down, like he can’t lift his head up, and it’s Loki’s hands in his hair and at his jaw that’s all that’s holding him up. His cock is the perfect length and size to bruise the inside of Clint’s throat and he fucking loves it, wants to be taken and hurt and forced.

He swims to awareness as he hears Loki’s voice hissing to him. Clint is usually a talker but something about Loki is so overwhelming and overpowering that all he can do is sit there and take it and whimper and whine.

“Take it,” Loki tells him. “Your useless mouth is good for only one thing, isn’t it? This is all you can give me in return for pissing on me? Pissing on my _clothes?_ I’m never going to be able to get it out.” Clint’s own cock makes a valiant effort at the thought of Loki smelling like his piss forever. “I’ll stink like you no matter what. And now you’re barely even good at this.”

He has no idea how Loki knows he likes dirty talk or humiliation or any of these things, but Clint feels like his body is going to shake apart and he’s not even hard. Loki’s fingers dig into his jaw and Clint tries to tilt his head back, give him better access, but Loki’s cock plunges down his throat and freezes him in place.

“I should break your jaw,” Loki tells him. He’s breathless with it but his voice is still deep and rough and he could easily break Clint’s jaw where he is. Clint is surprised his cock even fits in his mouth and he squeezes his eyes shut at the thought of Loki’s cock being so big that his jaw has to be broken for it to fit in his mouth. “Make your face a hole designed for fucking. Tie you down and u-use you.” It’s the first moment of weakness Loki has shown and Clint realizes he can do that again, so he sucks extra hard and Loki’s hips thrust forward, slamming Clint’s head back against the wall, pinning him in place. “Rip open your mouth until I can fit my cock down your throat.”

He can imagine it—his jaw hanging loose, useless, him tied up somewhere in the dark, Loki only appearing when Clint has to piss and drinking it all down from him and then shoving his cock so far down Clint’s broken throat that he can practically stick it directly into his stomach. He thinks about what else Loki could break on him, what else Loki could do to him, and then there’s a gasp from above and hot come suddenly fills his mouth, almost acidic in taste. He chokes on it and all Loki does is shove his cock even further down his throat, forcing him to take it.

Loki’s chest and stomach heave as he regains himself, not pulling his cock from Clint’s mouth. Clint tries to pull back but there isn’t anywhere to go. Loki lets out one last trembling breath and pulls his cock halfway out of Clint’s mouth, looking down at him. He reaches down and brushes his fingers over the stretch of Clint’s lips, looks over the desperation in his eyes, over the blush on his cheeks.

Then Loki’s stance changes, widening a bit, and he leans forward against the wall to cradle Clint’s jaw in both of his long hands. Clint suckles at the head of his cock, feeling the way Loki’s hips twitch with overstimulation. He wonders what Asgardian recovery time is like, if Loki really is going to fuck a hole through his head. He wonders if he would stop him.

Then Loki’s mouth slides into a smile. “Swallow,” he says, thumb sliding over Clint’s swollen bottom lip, catching some of the come that slid out. For a moment, Clint doesn’t know what he means, and then hot piss spurts into his mouth. He tries to pull back, tries to jerk away, but Loki doesn’t let him, and Clint submits, letting the piss fill his mouth before he slowly swallows it down, trying to be good. He never realized before now how much he wants to please, how much he revels in the smug approval in Loki’s eyes, how much he _wants._

Clint hates that he likes the taste. He feels dirty for it, shivering as his belly warms, Loki’s cock twitching as it spurts out warm bursts of salty piss. “Little slut,” Loki murmurs, letting out a sigh of relief, and it sounds almost fond. “I’ll fill you up again as many times as you want.”

He has a sudden reel in his head of a life of Loki pissing in him and him pissing on Loki and it being an endless cycle, and Clint finally manages to wrench his head away from Loki’s cock before he can beg for it. Loki’s wet, softening cock slides out of his mouth and over his cheek before resting against Loki’s open pants. Clint’s hole suddenly pulses, as if feeling the lack, but he ignores it and the beautiful sight of Loki’s miraculous cock. Loki takes a step back, regarding him carefully, tucking himself away and putting himself to rights.

Clint is half hard again and he loosely fists his cock a few times before he can’t handle it any longer and has to tuck himself away. He can’t even make it to his feet, his legs collapsing underneath him when he tries, so he just sprawls out in the corner and pants.

Loki regards him for a long moment, probably wondering if Clint is going to attack him, and then he bends over to pick up the water bottle. He takes a drink and then holds it out to Clint, and a small smile flits across his face as Clint grumbles, “Guess I am thirsty.”

He finishes the bottle at Loki’s gesture and tosses it carelessly into the far corner, looking around the elevator with tired interest. The electricity still hasn’t kicked back on so it’s a little dim in the room, but Clint can see the guarded look in Loki’s face as he slides down the wall off to the side, picking his phone up from the floor where it had fallen sometime in their...their what? Lovemaking? Clint can’t imagine anyone has ever made love with Loki.

But he doesn’t stop himself from sliding across the elevator floor and sitting against Loki’s side, shoulder to shoulder. Loki tenses for a moment and then relaxes when Clint doesn’t immediately attack him, and he doesn’t pull away when Clint slumps against his side. Loki puts his phone down but not before Clint sees that he still doesn’t have service and that he was reading some trashy article titled _5 Unique Ways to Show a Guy You Like Him!_ and he rolls his eyes. Idiot could’ve just asked.

“Is piss play the first or second idea?” Clint asks, his voice a little hoarse. Loki stiffens for a moment and then snorts.

“The third, actually,” Loki drawls, sliding an arm over Clint’s shoulders. Clint sighs and shuffles closer, leaning his torso into Loki and practically getting into his lap. Loki doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest; Clint has seen how aggressively affectionate Thor is towards Loki, and they’re just brothers, so this is probably normal to him.

The silence isn’t strained and although Loki is mostly sharp edges, Clint is comfortable enough to let his eyes slide shut. “How long have you been wanting to do that?” Clint asks. He wants to take his hearing aids out but Loki has a tendency to steal them and make him beg for them back—yeah, he should’ve realized before now that Loki pulling his metaphorical pigtails was his weird way of flirting.

Loki makes a curious sound in the back of his throat and it vibrates down through his chest where Clint can feel it pressed up against him. “Since New York,” Loki tells him, his voice soft. He delicately clears his throat. “I did not realize it until after.”

Sheesh. “How many times did you jerk off in prison thinkin’ about me?”

There’s a long moment where Clint thinks he might’ve gone too far before Loki lets out a sound that’s half surprise and half laugh. It’s not a sound Clint thinks he’s ever heard before. “My cell had transparent walls,” he tells Clint, bringing up a hand to pet Clint’s hair. He’s strangely gentle about it. “So I had little privacy, and was often leered upon by the guards and fellow prisoners. So I will admit that I partook little in self-pleasure.” His tone is casual, like he’s talking about his coffee order, but Clint can hear the grief behind his words. Loki is intensely private and personal and the thought of everything being on display for anyone and everyone to see...that must’ve been as much torture as the confinement itself.

“But I was occasionally overtaken with the urge, and I would wait until the lights were dimmed and all was quiet and I would sneak into bed and pull my blankets over myself and close my eyes.” And cry as he comes, Clint finishes silently for him.

“Oh yeah?” Clint asked, turning his head to look up at him. “What did you think about?”

Loki raises a perfectly sculpted black eyebrow at him. Clint is suddenly struck with the differences in this Loki and the one that first came to New York, and then the Loki that returned from Asgard after faking his own death. This Loki, while not entirely free, is able to take care of himself and seems content enough in his life. Clint had only seen him tortured and on the run for so long that this Loki is barely recognizable from the ones that came before. “You,” Loki replies simply. “All I ever thought about was you.”

Clint can’t bear to keep looking at him after that so he turns his head back around and nestles back into Loki’s lap. Loki’s hand hovers over the back of his head for a moment before slowly petting over his hair again, strangely gentle. Clint clears his throat. He doesn’t know if he wants to run or if he really wants to have this conversation, and he’s always been better at running.

But maybe it’s time to stop. Not just for him, but for both of them.

“Was it the Mind Stone?” he asks finally.

He’d half expected Loki to be insulted and throw him across the elevator in his rage, but Loki barely reacts. “Perhaps,” Loki replies. “An Infinity Stone is unknowable in its entirety, even to the wielder. The Mind Stone even more so, and especially because I was not made aware of what I was wielding. I cannot imagine that I made a picture of attractiveness at the time.”

There isn’t really a right answer to that—either he agrees, and potentially hurts whatever feelings Loki has, or he disagrees and Loki knows he’s lying—so Clint just shrugs one shoulder and lets his eyes finally slide shut. “Wake me up when they find us,” he says.

“Very well,” Loki replies. He pauses for a moment before continuing, a smile in his voice, “What would you have me tell them about the piss?”

Clint snorts. “We tried to piss in the water bottle and it tipped over,” he decides. He lifts up a hand and pats around behind himself until Loki gets the idea and laces their fingers together. Loki’s thumb strokes along his and Clint slips away into sleep.

* * *

There’s a brief moment of awareness as someone picks him up, but then they shush him back to sleep and Clint obeys.

Then he blinks a few times and he sits up in his bed. His hearing aids aren’t in and he pats around on the bedside table until he finds the light and flicks it on. He sighs when he sees that he’s alone in bed, as well as naked, and then he picks up his hearing aids and turns them on after putting them in. Clint slumps back against the pillows.

“Jarvis?” he says, and a red light on the speaker by the door turns on.

“Yes, Agent Barton?”

“How long were Loki and I in the elevator?” he asks, picking up the large, cold glass of water from the bedside table and taking a long, refreshing drink.

“Seven hours,” Jarvis replies succinctly. “Sir was able to restore power to the Tower quickly, but it went by floors, and you and Loki were near the top of the building.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“No, Agent Barton.”

“Just a freak blackout, then?”

There’s a strange pause. Clint has never known the AI to pause. But then Jarvis says, “Yes, Agent Barton. That is what is believed to have happened.”

What a normal way to say something. “Great,” he mutters, finishing the glass and reaching over to turn off the light. The red light near the door turns off and then there’s an ominous creak of the floorboards that has Clint looking up to see Loki standing up from a chair across the room, shrouded in shadow. Clint smiles at him. “Did you make the floorboards creak?” he teases. “I doubt Tony would’ve put built in creaks into his fancy floors.”

“I see you have recovered,” Loki tells him, stepping forward to the edge of the pool of light. He’s wearing what looks like Thor’s pajamas, which is a little funny since he looks like he’s drowning in them. “I am glad to see it.” He glances over Clint’s bed and the unmade half of it and then briskly turns on his heel.

“Loki,” Clint sighs, frowning when Loki’s shoulders tense up. He reaches over to flip down the covers. “Come on, get in.”

Loki’s head swings back around and then he turns fully back to Clint, creeping forward like he thinks Clint is tricking him. He reaches forward and runs a hand over Clint’s blankets, a faint grimace of disgust flickering across his face, which makes Clint smile. He hopes Loki never changes.

Clint lifts up the covers for him and Loki pauses next to the bed, glancing back to the speaker near the door. Then he leans down and taps a finger on Clint’s sheets, which were apparently not up to snuff, and a faint flicker of green light flashes across them. The sheets suddenly become butter soft and smooth and Loki finally allows himself to slide between them, Clint pulling the blankets up to his shoulders. He doesn’t mention the obvious use of magic that he shouldn’t even be able to use, or what it probably means about the elevator.

He slides down on his side, facing Loki. He reaches forward and tugs on the massive shirt Loki is wearing. “Thor’s?” he asks. Loki’s face immediately colors, but after searching Clint’s face, he slowly nods.

There’s a long moment before Loki consciously decides to trust him, and Loki tells him, voice low, “My clothes were too piss and come stained to be wearable.” Clint rolls his eyes. Loki’s sharp green eyes search his face and Loki licks his lips before admitting, “I often wear Thor’s clothes to sleep.” He leans in closer and Clint’s hearing aids can barely pick him up. “He makes me feel safe.”

Clint nods in understanding. He lifts up his hand and brushes some of the hair off Loki’s face, rubbing the thick strands in between his fingers. “Does he mind if I piss on you in them?” he asks, the casual tone of his voice making Loki’s eyes flare up.

“I suppose they can be washed,” Loki replies. He looks past Clint to the empty glass of water on his bedside table and his mouth curls into a smile. “Not like he has to know.”

Clint grins at him and surges across the bed, straddling Loki and pushing him over onto his back. He grinds their crotches together and Loki gasps, hips twitching. To Clint’s surprise, Loki doesn’t fight him when Clint grabs his wrists and pins them above his head; the god merely watches him in interest. He pushes Loki’s hands up against the headboard. “Hold on,” Clint orders, watching as Loki’s long fingers slowly wrap around the thin bars of the headboard. “Don’t let go until I tell you to.”

“It’s a brave soul that can tell me what to do,” Loki comments idly, but there’s a harsh flush on his cheeks and down his neck and Clint would bet his chest is flushed as well.

“It’s an even braver one who can make you like it,” Clint replies cheekily, resting his hands on either side of Loki’s head. He looks Loki over for a few long moments and then leans down to finally kiss Loki, gently cradling his head, and Loki does not hesitate to kiss back. It’s slow and sweet and just a hint of tongue before Clint pulls back, his breath already running ragged.

Clint brings his hands up to hold Loki’s jaw, Loki letting him turn and tilt his head however he wants. He prods a few fingers into Loki’s mouth and feels around, over the soft inside of his cheek and the warmth underneath his tongue and his sharp teeth. He runs the tip of a finger over the hinge of Loki’s jaw, thinking about what Loki wanted to do to him in the elevator. Maybe in the future, he decides, thinking about Loki’s head hanging off the side of the bed, jaw useless, his throat a hole for Clint to fuck whenever he wants. The thought makes him shiver and suddenly realize his bladder is getting a little full. It’s a pleasant kind of pressure, made only better by the god beneath him.

Loki seems to know exactly what Clint is thinking, his eyes bright and flickering back and forth from Clint’s face to his groin. Clint gives him a slow smile and pulls away from him, scooting up Loki’s torso to straddle his face. His cock isn’t even half hard, so it’s easy to take himself in hand and rub it over Loki’s face, slapping him a few times with it. Loki strains against himself as he tries to crane his head forward to suck on Clint’s cock, but Clint doesn’t let him.

“Let me do it,” Clint tells him, voice soft and strained with the effort of holding himself back. Loki’s eyes flash away from Clint’s cock and up to his face. One day they’ll talk about why piss makes Loki so desperate, why it knocks down every barrier, why Loki wants it so much, but for now, the hungry look on his face is enough. No one has ever made Clint feel so thoroughly wanted, and Loki is a _god_. Loki lets out a pained whimper and Clint relaxes his bladder enough to let one spurt of piss spurt out.

Loki’s hips buck hard enough that Clint is nearly dislodged. Clint gives him a disapproving look. “Control yourself,” he barks out, sitting up and slapping Loki across the face with his cock. It’s not hard, and it doesn’t hurt, but Loki lets out another whimper. Loki likes desperation and helplessness, Clint figures out, either in himself or someone else. “I’m going to get Thor’s clothes all dirty,” he threatens, and Loki’s eyes go wide. “He’s going to know what I did to you. He’s going to know that I pissed all over you and that you _wanted_ it.”

With that, Clint lets go. Loki’s mouth falls open and he hungrily drinks him down, and Clint watches with a small smile. They’re going to be alright.

* * *

Clint wakes up to Loki flipping him over onto his front and shoving his face into a pillow, holding him down as he presses his mouth to Clint’s hole. He’s either been fingering Clint open for a while or he worked some magic, but he feels like he’s absolutely _gaping_ back there. He has his hearing aids in, although he fell asleep without them, so he assumes Loki must’ve put them in for him. The sound of Loki licking into him is beyond lewd, and it’s wet and dirty and Clint hikes his hips up and presses back into him. He feels open enough that he thinks he could take anything, and the thought of Loki fucking into him like that makes him whine.

Loki fingers him, pulling his loose muscles apart, sliding his fingers inside and searching him out. It feels like Loki wants to know him inside as well as outside, like Loki wants to crawl inside of him and figure out his guts. Then there’s movement and Clint turns his head to see Loki above him again, still in Thor’s pajamas, the fabric rough against Clint’s sensitive skin, and his cock is jutting out in front of him, a single drop of precome shining at the tip. Clint’s mouth waters at the sight, but before he can say anything, Loki guides himself to Clint’s hole and fucks into him with a single sure stroke. He grazes Clint’s prostate and Clint yelps, Loki reaching forward and shoving his face into the pillow to silence him.

Clint has had quite a bit of sex in his life, and he assumes Loki has as well. But it’s never been like this, raw and aggressive while simultaneously strangely gentle. It’s exactly what Clint needs, what he’s needed for as long as he can remember and didn’t realize until just now. Loki fucks him harder than he’s ever been fucked but he mouths gently over the back of Clint’s neck; he holds Clint down and doesn’t let him move, barely lets him breathe, but slides a hand underneath him to stroke his half hard cock, brushing his thumb over the wide head in a way that makes Clint’s entire body tremble. His cock is massive and hot and demanding inside of Clint, the entire bed shaking with his thrusts, and all Clint can do is lay there and take it. When he tries to lift his hips or push back into it, Loki growls and forces him still. His loose hole flutters around Loki’s cock and Loki moans.

So he whines and whimpers and begs because he knows it’s what Loki wants, and Loki won’t ask for it, not yet. “Harder,” Clint sobs, tears soaking the pillow. “Loki, oh God, please, I need it. D-deeper, pl-please.”

“Shut up,” Loki snarls, panting in Clint’s ear. Whenever Clint tries to lift his head out of the pillow to speak up, Loki shoves his face back into it. He lets him turn his head to the side to breathe, though just barely. “You’re going to take it and you’re going to _like_ it.”

Clint whimpers. “No,” he says, trying a different tactic. “Please don’t. I don’t want it, please—” Loki’s hips stutter and then he bodily lifts Clint up, holding him up in the air. His dick slides out and Clint thrashes, hips gyrating wildly, and words spill out before he can stop them. “I need it, please put it back, I need it, I’m empty, Loki, _please_ —”

Loki’s chest is pressed up against Clint’s back, the shirt scratchy, and Loki’s heart is pounding so hard that Clint can feel it inside his own chest. He moves Clint around like a puppet, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around his calves, and then Loki reaches his own arms forward and wraps them fully around Clint, holding him in midair over the bed.

“Please,” Clint sobs, head falling back, feeling his hole twitch and gape and lube leak out. The groan of relief that falls out of him when Loki’s cock finds his hole again is loud and makes Loki give a breathy chuckle.

“What does it feel like?” Loki asks, not moving other than to firmly seat himself inside of Clint. He’s out of breath and not trying to hide it, and Clint suddenly remembers that he’s fully dressed while Clint’s completely naked and it makes Clint tighten around Loki’s cock, trying to milk it. Loki grunts but doesn’t move.

“Huge,” Clint finally gets out with a whine. “I want it. It’s so _hard_ and hot, it feels like I’m being burned from the inside out. It feels like—like if you leave, I’ll be empty for the rest of my life.” Loki’s hips stutter and Clint gasps, “Don’t slip out, p-please. I need it.”

“Need what?” Loki growls in his ear, arms tightening around Clint, squeezing the breath out of him. Clint gasps.

“Come in me,” Clint whines, but Loki doesn’t move. “Lo-Loki, oh God, _please_.”

The desperation had been something for Loki in the beginning but now it really does feel like Clint is going to die if Loki doesn’t fill him up. Then Loki’s arms tighten again and he’s moving, twisting around on the bed to sit on the edge of it, Clint bundled up in his lap. He’s staring mindlessly at the bathroom door while Loki lifts him up and down, grunting into his ear as he uses Clint as a fucktoy. When he comes, he grinds up into Clint and Clint tightens around him as much as he can, Loki’s come battering his prostate, and Clint can’t manage to come without cock stimulation, but it feels so good it almost feels like an orgasm.

Loki sags back for a moment, releasing his arms from around Clint, who feels almost _frantic_ with it, bringing his shaking legs underneath himself and trying to fuck himself on Loki’s slowly softening cock. He can feel come slipping out from his hole and he reaches down, feeling the stretch of his hole around the length of Loki’s cock and Loki growls at him. Before Clint can do anything, Loki moves them again, shoving Clint back down to the bed, face pushed into a pillow and his ass up in the air.

Clint already knows what he’s going to do. “Please,” he says, Loki’s fingernails digging into his palms, and he moans as warmth suddenly begins to fill him. Loki lets him reach a hand up to his cock and Clint hurriedly jacks himself off as Loki fills him up with what feels like enough piss to fill a bathtub. He has a moment of thinking that Loki could fill him up enough that the piss bubbles up out of his mouth and Clint squeezes his eyes shut as he comes to that imagery.

Gasping as the aftershocks begin to hit, his body trembling, Loki slowly slides out of him. Clint whimpers at the loss, thinking he could beg for it again, but Loki cuts him off. “Do you wish for me to carry you to the bathroom?” Loki asks, his voice hoarse but gentle.

“Better make sure I don’t leak anywhere,” Clint says, pushing his hips back. He sounds even more wrecked than Loki does. Loki brings up a hand and runs the pads of his fingers over Clint’s sore rim, easily dipping inside to play with the piss and come. Clint wants him to fuck him again, froth all of that up until it creams him up and spills out of him. When Loki doesn’t say anything, Clint turns his head to see Loki frowning down at his hole, a faintly concerned look on his face. “Loki?” Clint asks slowly. “Just carry me.”

“But the _mess,_ ” Loki murmurs, spreading Clint’s hole with two fingers. Then he glances at Clint’s face before leaning down to seal his mouth over Clint’s hole. He pushes Clint’s hips down until they’re flat with the bed, chasing come and piss with his tongue as it slips out of his hole, and Clint moans, fighting the urge to push back into Loki’s mouth. Maybe they call him Silvertongue because it feels like he was made to eat ass.

It doesn’t take Loki long to be satisfied, licking his lips as he lifts his head from Clint’s twitching hole, managing to swing Clint into his arms in one quick movement before lifting him off the bed and taking him to the bathroom. Clint scrambles for his hearing aids and Loki puts them on the sink counter for him. He turns on the shower, which Clint didn’t even know he knew how to do, and then pushes Clint underneath the warm spray.

Fucking hell. Jesus Christ. Clint sags against the nearest wall, staring forward into nothing, trying to get strength back in his legs. He can see through the shower door that Loki is just there staring at him, so Clint weakly waves a hand, beckoning him in. He blearily watches as Loki undresses and then joins him, looking over Clint like he’s concerned about him.

Maybe he is, Clint realizes. Maybe this is a thing between them, not just compatible kinks they stumbled upon. He smiles up at Loki and lets the god catch him when he leans forward into his arms. They stand together for a few minutes and Clint can feel the god relaxing, getting more comfortable, and then Loki picks up some soap and a washcloth and begins to gently clean him.

Clint doesn’t remember the last time someone treated him this gently, like he’s worth something. He can’t hear much, and Loki isn’t talking, but he follows the way Loki looks at him, they way he touches him, and he wonders how Loki survived this long without saying anything. Maybe the elevator thing was a weird tactic he decided on and it would’ve gone another way if Clint hadn’t needed to piss. Maybe Loki would’ve chickened out and Clint would’ve left the elevator none the wiser.

Long fingers slide through his hair, pushing him under the water, and when Clint looks up at him, there is a small smile on Loki’s face. He’s blurry through the steam and the water, but Clint leans up and presses a kiss to Loki’s thin mouth. Loki hesitates for a moment before kissing back, strangely gentle, like he’s worried Clint is going to break. Clint wonders how long it’s going to take for Loki to believe him when he shows himself like this.

Loki pulls back, tugging Clint out of the water, and Clint lets himself be examined, head to toe. The water is warm and Loki’s touch is gentle and when they’re done, when they’ve washed each other, Loki summons a few towels after Clint shuts the water off and they dry themselves in the quiet. Clint dries his ears as Loki pads out of the bathroom, slipping his hearing aids back in. Loki picks up Thor’s pajamas and cleans them with a snap of his fingers, not bothering to be subtle, pulling them back on.

Clint brushes his teeth and decides against shaving and then joins Loki back in the bedroom, standing slightly awkwardly near the bed. Clint takes his hand and Loki looks down at him in surprise. “Want to watch a movie?” Clint asks. “We could make some breakfast and watch a movie.”

“A _movie_ ,” Loki repeats disdainfully under his breath, but the annoyance that would normally be on his face isn’t there, and when Clint looks up at him, his eyes are crinkled in a smile. “I suppose I could be convinced if the breakfast is hearty enough.”

Clint drags him out of the bedroom, towel falling from his waist and dropping to the carpet. Loki makes an affronted sound—for a guy that will eat Clint’s ass until he’s shaking, he seems to be a little modest; he even has sex fully clothed, although that might be another kink of his—and they engage in a brief tug of war in the doorway as Loki demands he at least put on a pair of pants. Clint rolls his eyes at him. “It’s _my_ apartment,” Clint reminds him, but Loki’s glare convinces him it’s an argument he won’t win, so he finds a pair of shorts and yanks them on, Loki’s eyes dropping to his ass as he leaves the bedroom.

Loki follows him to the kitchen, where Clint pokes around for breakfast food while Loki perches at the breakfast bar. Clint makes some easy food for them and they eat in comfortable silence, Loki refilling Clint’s glass whenever it runs low from the water pitcher between them. Once they’re full, they join each other on the couch, Clint pulling a blanket over them.

He finds a move and leans against Loki’s side, realizing he’s fully content. Loki watches the movie with him for nearly twenty minutes and then grows bored, snaking a hand down into Clint’s shorts to cup his soft cock.

“Watch the movie,” Loki murmurs, gently fondling his cock. Clint’s hole suddenly pulses and he whimpers, dick thickening slowly in Loki’s long fingers. Loki’s thumb brushes over the head and Clint’s hips twitch. Loki shushes him, leaning his chin on the top of Clint’s head. There’s a faint shudder traveling all through Clint’s body and he clenches his gut, trying not to thrust up into Loki’s grasp. “You’re going to have to be quiet or they’ll hear you and know what we’re doing in here. They’ll know how dirty you are, what a slut you are.”

Clint doesn’t know who _they_ are, but he suddenly imagines a group of strangers on the other side of the front door, ears pressed to the door and trying to overhear what they’re doing. It makes him want to yelp. “Stop,” he whines. “I don’t want them to hear.”

“I can’t stop,” Loki tells him. “You need to come too badly for me to stop, isn’t that right? You want to dirty your shorts. You want to walk around with come in your shorts, and you want everyone to know. They’ll _smell_ it on you.”

“No,” he says, grinding up into Loki’s grasp. He’s only half hard but he’s already panting, imagining the disgust on the imaginary strangers’ faces as they smell how dirty he is, as they see the come stains, as they know what he did.

Loki doesn’t let him come until the end of the movie, edging him until he’s begging for it, sweating and thrashing in Loki’s grasp, and when he finally does come, he sees stars. Loki brings his come-drenched hand up to Clint’s mouth and after regaining his breath, Clint dutifully cleans him off, slowly sucking each finger into his mouth and cleaning it. Then he pushes Loki’s pajama pants down and suckles down his cock while Loki finds another movie and repeats the favor.

Loki comes down his throat and Clint doesn’t want to leave, so he holds Loki’s twitching cock in his mouth, loose and drooling, until he manages to fall into a light doze. He wakes up a while later to the feeling of Loki pissing directly down his throat, and Clint chokes briefly on it before gulping it down.

When he pulls back, leaning his head back on Loki’s knees while gasping for air, Loki smiles at him and leans down to kiss him. He licks the taste of piss out of Clint’s mouth and pins him down until he’s licked every tooth and every crevice clean. He sucks on Clint’s tongue and bites his lips and licks over the tender inside of his cheeks. Then he pulls back and Clint can’t help but grin at him.

Clint doesn’t feel it very often, but he has the feeling that everything is going to turn out alright for the two of them. He leans up to press a quick kiss to Loki’s nose as Loki pulls away from him and the aghast look he receives makes him grin. Loki rolls his eyes at him and then pointedly turns his attention to whatever movie is playing on the TV, like he cares in the slightest. Clint nestles against his stomach and lets his eyes slide shut. He doesn’t sleep, just letting himself enjoy the moments as they stretch out, Loki’s hand gently petting his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! Please leave comments and kudos
> 
> follow me:  
> tumblr: @deluxemycroft  
> twitter: @whenhedied


End file.
